


Of Metatron and Baby Angels

by heregoesnothing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Big Brother Gabriel, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, De-Aged Castiel, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Men of Letters Headquarters, Post-Episode: s09e09 Holy Terror, Protective Dean Winchester, Season/Series 09, Some Humor, up until the season 9 mid season hiatus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heregoesnothing/pseuds/heregoesnothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas make the deal with Crowley to expel Gadriel. After that, Crowley will go free. However, when the boys return to the place where they picked up Sam, all of hell -or rather heaven- breaks loose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fixing It

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my second fic overall, but my first multi-chapter fic. Yay for progress! Anyway, I hope you like it :)

It was a decided.

 

Crowley would expel the angel.

 

Dean was barely sleeping. He was plagued by endless nightmares about Kevin and Sam and the son of bitch angel. He put his entire soul into fixing the mess he alone had created.

 

Beginning their search for the angel, Dean discovered Sam's cell phone was missing. Apparently, Gadreel had been dumb enough to keep Sam’s phone in his pocket after he took off. Finding him would be much easier than Dean had expected. After a few days, they located the area that he was hiding out and put their plan into motion.

 

Dean and Cas snatched Sam/Gadreel from a previously abandoned warehouse a few counties over. There were papers everywhere, but the tablets were out of sight, if not already with Metatron. The pair snuck in early in the morning and Cas managed to knock Gadreel out with some angel mojo. They lugged Sam's body to the impala and got back to the bunker as quickly as possible.  There the unlikely trio; the hunter, the fallen angel, and the demon king of hell; began their interrogation.

 

Despite Cas and Dean’s lack of confidence in Crowley, he kept up his end of the bargain. However, the interrogation did not last very long. The angel was incredibly stubborn. He refused to give up any information other than his name and repeatedly pledged allegiance to Metatron.  

 

“Just do it.” Dean whispered, turning away. Cas nodded. Crowley shrugged nonchalantly.  

 

“I hate to say it, but I actually like Moose better as himself.” he sneered before beginning the procedure.

 

Dean couldn’t stand to watch, tears threatened to fall from his tired green eyes. Cas stood with him in the doorway. Gadreel’s screams echoed in the room. As Crowley pressed onward, Dean recognized the sound of Gadreel’s screams noticeably turn back into Sam’s. Unable to contain his anger partially directed towards Gadreel and Metatron, but mostly directed toward himself, he punched the concrete wall, bloodying and breaking his knuckles.

 

Suddenly, there was a flash of bright white/blue light, then, silence.

 

Crowley backed away from the chair.

 

“It’s done.” he stated. Sam’s limp body hanging by the restraints that held him to the chair. Dean rushed forward, blind of any pain.

 

Cas took Crowley’s arm and escorted out of the room, giving Dean a moment alone with his brother. Dean checked his brother’s pulse and gave a sigh of relief. He was unconscious.

 

A moment later, Cas returned and touched his index and middle fingers to Sam’s forehead.

 

“He’s alive, but exhausted. He will sleep for some time.” he spoke softly near Dean’s ear, gently placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

 

Dean cleared his throat and responded roughly, “We should go back to that warehouse and see what we can find after he wakes up.”

 

Cas hummed in agreement and together, they undid the restraints and carried Sam to his room. Dean tucked his brother in and paused to watch his unusually peaceful face before he followed Cas back out to the hallway, closing the door behind them.

 

He leaned his back against the wall across from the door, then slid down until he hit the floor. Cas followed suit, tucking his knees under his chin, watching Dean stare forlornly at Sam’s door.

 

“It will be okay, Dean.” Cas murmured.

 

“I hope so, Cas. We don’t exactly have the best track record.” Dean laughed humorlessly.

 

Cas lost track of how long they sat there in silence. Dean had fallen asleep and Cas took the opportunity to heal him without any resistance. Still weak, he fell asleep not long after, leaning on Dean’s shoulder.

 

\-----

 

Dean awoke  with a frenzied gasp for air, forcibly tossing his head back into the wall behind him. He had had another horrible nightmare about Kevin. It had only been a week and he could still smell the reek of burning flesh. He checked his watch and saw it was nearly 5 am.

 

 _Well,_ he thought to himself. _That’s what you get for falling asleep in the middle of the afternoon._

 

Dean, suddenly feeling a warm body leaning on his right, saw Cas snuggling into his side, legs curled under himself, and his hand resting on Dean’s chest. His heart fluttered a bit at the sight. He reached his hand into Cas’s dark hair and ruffled it a tad.

 

“Come on, Cas. Wakey, wakey eggs and bakey.” Dean mused. “I gotta get up and check on Sam.”

 

Cas groaned slightly and shifted off him, nodding. Dean rose and eased the door open slowly as he could, but the hinges squeaked loudly and Sam moaned rolling from his side onto his back, clasping his hands to his face and moaning once more. This time with a bit more coherency.

 

“Deeeaan, what hell happened?”

 

“Sam.” he gulped and sat down on the edge of his bed. “What do you remember?”

 

“Hold on.” Sam croaked. His hands slid down from his face. “It’s fuzzy. I remember everything through waking up strapped down in the bunker. Then, Crowley started messing around and it’s all pain.”

 

“Well-” Dean began, rubbing the back of his neck, only to be interrupted when a look of realization, horror, and then anger flashed onto his brother’s face.

 

“Dean, what the hell did you do?" Sam narrowed his eyes, leaning forward accusingly.

 

"I did what I had to do, Sam." Dean answered.

 

"What you 'had to do?' 'HAD TO DO?' DEAN YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING." Sam exploded.

 

"I MEANT EVERYTHING I SAID BACK IN THAT HOSPITAL SAM. I WOULD HAVE DONE ANYTHING TO SAVE YOU." Dean shot back desperately.

 

"I THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH THIS CRAP, CONSTANTLY SACRIFICING OURSELVES AND LYING AND DEALING AND GOING BEHIND EACH OTHER’S BACKS, TRYING TO KEEP EACH OTHER ALIVE. YOU CANNOT KEEP DOING THIS, DEAN.” Sam yelled, panic errant in his voice, hands flying, trying to express the gravity of the situation. “ONE DAY I AM GOING TO DIE. YOU HAVE TO GET OVER IT.”

 

“I CAN’T JUST SIT BACK AND WATCH YOU DIE, SAMMY” Dean protested.

 

“YOU WENT TO HELL, DEAN.” Sam continued, chest heaving violently. “I LOST MY SOUL. YOU MADE ME A FUCKING ANGEL’S VESSEL. KEVIN IS DEAD. WHO IS GOING TO GET HURT NEXT TIME? CAS? MAYBE CHARLIE? HOW ABOUT GARTH? WHO, DEAN? WHO IS IT GOING TO BE NEXT?”

 

Before Dean could respond, Cas entered the room.

 

“Do not think so badly of your brother, Sam. He only did what he thought was best for you. Crowley expelled the angel. You are healed.” Cas explained without so much as raising his voice. There was a moment of silence as Sam seethed.

 

“Look, I know I fucked up.” Dean confessed. “Kevin’s death is on me. This guilt is not going to go away anytime soon, believe me. I deserve everything you said. I just couldn’t lose you, Sammy. Not after everything we’ve been through. But I swear, it’s over now. I know it’s the end of the line.”

 

“Dean-” Cas tried to cut in.

 

“No, Cas. I can’t see anyone else get hurt because of my selfishness. I won’t pull anymore crap like that. Next time one of us dies, we stay dead. No more lies. No more deals.” Dean concluded.

 

Sam stared at his brother who looked on the verge of tears, his face screwed up in anguish. Then, he sat up slowly, muscles aching, and reached over to Dean pulling into a hug.

 

“Thank you.” Sam whispered.

 

“Yeah, no chick flick moments.” Dean choked out embracing his brother.

 

“Up yours, Jerk.” Sam teased.

 

“Bitch.” Dean replied. Then he turned to Cas who was standing awkwardly, watching the brothers’ exchange. “C’mon. You, too, Cas.”

 

With that, Cas joined them in the hug. Dean ruffled his hair again, then Cas piped up.

 

“I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand humans. I’ve gotten close, but I believe some things will remain a mystery.” He admitted. Sam and Dean fell apart laughing at Cas’s confusion.

 

“How about some food?” Dean suggested after he finally calmed down. Cas nodded, but before Sam could answer, his stomach growled loudly, answering for him. That set off all three men chuckled, before they stumbled to the kitchen in search of breakfast.

 

Dean shoves Sam and Cas down into the chairs at the kitchen table, turns on the coffee machine and proceeds to make waffles.

 

Not a minute later, Crowley walks into the kitchen wearing a black robe with a ‘C’ embroidered on the pocket in red and a pair of matching house slippers.

 

“Quite the racket you boys made earlier. I hope we’ve all settled our differences so we can play nicely.” he drawled.

 

Sam jumped out of his seat and looked frantically between Dean and Cas who were going about their business as usual.

 

“What is he doing?” Sam hissed at Dean’s back while he was digging in the refrigerator for something.

 

“The deal was that Crowley expelled the angel and in return goes free.” Dean summarized.

 

“So why is he still here?” Sam sputtered in response, gesturing incredulously in Crowley’s general direction.

 

“Good question. Why are you still here?” Dean turned to Crowley looking puzzled.

 

“Moose, Squirrel, Cas darling, do you boys really think I would leave your cozy little hideout while that crazy bitch knight of hell Abaddon is gunning for me? I would rather not! I’m sure you’ll finish her off in a month or so because she’s so damn cocky and then I’ll be on my merry way.” Crowley rationalized in an oddly cheery tone. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take a cup of tea and go back to the lovely bedroom I’ve chosen. Have a nice day.”

 

He was gone as fast as he came. The three men looked at each other and collectively decided to let it be. One less son of a bitch for them to worry about for the time being.

 

“Anyway, after breakfast, Cas and I are going back to that warehouse to see what intel we can gather.” Dean declared.

 

“I’m coming with you then.” Sam insisted.

 

"The hell you are. You are going to eat and then get some rest." Dean responded definitively.

 

"But-" Sam tried to argue, but was cut off by his own yawn. Dean shot him a knowing look.

 

"I must agree with Dean. You have endured much. Although some 'back up' would be advantageous, I believe that rest would be more beneficial to you." Cas offered solemnly.

 

“Fine” Sam muttered, leaning his head on his arms and succumbing to exhaustion. Cas waited patiently for Dean to finish cooking. Out of all the food that he had eaten as a human, Dean’s was the best.

 

Dean hummed classic rock songs as he worked. He hasn’t gotten tired of slaving away in the kitchen to prepare meals yet, and he doesn’t think he ever will. Cooking reminds him so much of his mom. It brings him closer to her in a way that almost nothing else does. It makes him happy. For just a little while, Dean can escape his guilt and the pressures of his work to enjoy himself.

 

Cas sees the joy it cooking brings Dean. The mix of joy and love oozes out of his soul like warmth from a glowing fire. That’s his theory as to why Dean’s food is so good; it is full of love.

  
After the boys ate, Sam bade Dean and Cas good luck and went back to his room. The other two gathered up their gear and headed out to the Impala, starting the long drive to the warehouse.


	2. Nightmares and Traps

Sam’s sleep was anything but restful like Cas and Dean had hoped.

 

Sam watched, a prisoner in his own body, as the angel spoke in his voice tricking Dean then punching him out. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

 

He screamed as loud as he could. He tried to regain control of his limbs. Anything he could do as he saw the angel walking through the bunker.

 

The angel approached Kevin.

 

Fear gripped his entire body. No. Sam couldn’t let this happen. Not again. The prophet was innocent. Kevin was his responsibility just as much as he was Dean’s. The poor kid never wanted any of this. He was bright. He had so much potential. Sam saw himself in the kid.

 

He fought and fought, but to no avail. The angel touched Kevin’s head once again, smiting him without a second thought.

 

Dean rushed in, just like the first time. He had to stop this. He had to eject the angel himself. Sam screamed. It felt like his throat was going raw with the effort, but there was no sound coming out.

 

The angel didn’t stop. He held Dean against the pillar and gathered the tablets. He cried out to Dean like a little boy once again, like he was calling out to his big brother during a thunderstorm or  
after a nightmare about their dad not coming home from a hunt.

 

This time the angel heard his cries to stop. The first time the angel fled the bunker. This time he froze like Sam was pleading for him to do, turning to Dean.

 

NO.

 

Sam roared within himself at the angel.

 

The angel turned his face into a smirk against his will.

 

Dean pleaded for Sam to breakthrough.

 

The angel reached out and laid his hand firmly across Dean’s forehead.

 

Dean whispered a last plea, “Sammy, please.”

 

Sam felt as if the entire world was ending. The blinding holy light poured from Dean’s eyes and mouth as the angel smote his brother.

 

His body fell to the floor with a low thud, limp and lifeless.

 

The angel stormed out of the bunker.

 

Sam woke up screaming, covered in a thick, cold sheen of sweat. His head was pounding. He threw the blankets off of his body and ran into the bathroom, suddenly extremely nauseous. Sam gripped the toilet seat and heaved, his whole body shaking. Every so often a more violent tremor came, forcing him off balance and onto his knees.

 

Eventually, his heart rate slowed down to a more normal level. Sam stood slowly, leaning on the counter as he came out of the fit and looked into the mirror. Tears came freely from his red, worn out eyes.

He was horribly pale. Sam thought back to just before the last trial, bringing about the only slightly positive thoughts he could muster up. He looked a bit better than he had before the third trial and he wasn’t coughing up any blood.

 

Trying to relax himself further, Sam started the shower, turning the water on as hot as it would go. He stripped the drenched flannel pants and t-shirt from his body as quickly as he could, but they were  
sticky and heavy like they had been soaked glue.

 

“It’s not my fault.” he chanted continuously, his voice reaching barely above a whisper. “It’s not my fault.”

 

He stood in the shower until the water ran cold as ice; his body was shivering and his teeth were chattering. Searching through the armoire, Sam found the softest pajamas he could and nestled himself into the couch by the TV. Turning on a nature documentary to distract himself, he made a silent prayer that things were going better for Dean and Cas.

 

\-----

 

Dean had popped one of his favorite classic rock mixed tapes into the Impala, cranked up the speakers, and drove wordlessly. Cas assumed that he was feeling a great burden of guilt and wished to drown it out.

  
With Cas not wanting to push him, the pair rode to the warehouse with only the sound of the music blaring out the speakers.

 

When parked in the street outside, they observed no change in the area since the last time they were there. Cas grabbed the black canvas duffle bag from the trunk and Dean loaded his handgun. They  
entered from the side door, like they had last time, and saw that just like the outside, nothing within the warehouse had changed either.

 

Dean rifled through some papers on the table, stuffing them into a folder. He examined the layout of papers, strings and pins on the corkboard on the wall. Cas went into the next room in search of the  
tablets.  

 

Cas walked in to see an ancient, wooden chest surrounded by a line of salt. The sigils carved into every side showed that it was warded against demons and the iron lock further protected it. He approached it,  
entered the circle, and broke the lock open by squeezing it in the palm of his hand.

 

Cas gently eased open the chest and saw that the tablets were there, safe and sound. Suddenly, the window shattered in and Metatron appeared just outside the circle. He dropped a lit match on the salt and it burst into flames; there was holy oil underneath it. Metatron had left a trap for them.

 

How could I have been so thoughtless? Cas wondered, almost groaning out loud.

 

Dean rushed into the room, hearing the noise, but was immediately thrown back into the wall.

 

“You bastard!” Dean cried out as the invisible force choked him roughly.

 

“Really?” Metatron asked with a disapproving tone, turning to Cas once again, “Castiel I thought you were smarter than this. You stumbled right into that circle without a second thought. You even brought your little human friend.”

 

“Leave Dean out of this Metatron.” Cas leaned forward menacingly, his heart beating quickly out of fear for his beloved…friend.

 

“I am going to make sure you learn this time.

Obviously, stealing your Grace did nothing to deter you from your old ways, so let’s have a little fun this time.” Metatron sneered.

 

He raised his arms in Cas's direction and began to speak in rapid Enochian. Light shot out of Metatron’s hands and surround Cas so brightly that Dean had to turn away. The wind blew his trench coat behind him and a high pitched whistling echoed around the room. Then, the light  
expanded outward from Cas's form, filling the entire warehouse.

 

Dean’s eyes crammed shut as he was thrust further and further back, harder and harder into the  
rough concrete wall.

 

Without warning, Dean was dropped on to the unyielding floor and everything went dark. The room fell quiet, all except for a low whimper a few feet from where Dean had fallen.

 

He rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust them faster to the lower level of light that had returned to the room. Metatron was no longer there. He frantically looked to the chest where Cas had been standing and saw the tablets gone as well. He looked lower and recognized a familiar pile of clothes on the floor as Cas’s.

 

“Damn it, Cas!” Dean grunted rushing to the pile.

It squirmed and Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

 

Louder than the previous whimper, a high pitched whine came from underneath the trench coat. A dark haired head frantically squirreled its way out from the heavy coat with a gasp at the cooler, fresh  
air. It spun around in a daze and Dean was met with an extremely familiar pair of cerulean blue eyes. However, the little boy with ivory skin who owned them couldn’t have been more than five years old.

 

“Hello, Dean.” came a squeaky voice, several octaves higher than either of them expected. Cas’s tiny cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

 

“Cas? What the hell did he do to you?” Dean questioned, trying not to smile at the angel’s predicament. He was absolutely precious.

 

“It appears that Metatron has attempted to weaken me by reducing the age of my vessel.” Cas huffed, struggling to free himself from the tangle of clothes that were now way too large on him.

 

“I just managed to get my suit and coat back, too.” he pouted, tears starting to collect at the corners of his eyes.

 

“Aw. Don’t cry. I’ll help you, little buddy.”

Dean soothed, pulling Cas from the knot in just a pair of white boxer shorts.

A few tears dripped from his eyes and he began to shiver. Dean wiped his cheeks gingerly and Cas nestled into his side, seeking warmth and security in Dean’s arms.

 

“I am not in full control of this vessel, Dean. I am very sad and very cold for some reason. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I stop crying?” Cas blubbered, face turning further into Dean’s chest. His tiny hands gripped tightly at Dean’s old black t-shirt, as if anything or anyone could come and snatch him up and take him away.

“You just got turned into a little kid and I guess your maturity is at that level, too. It’s all perfectly normal for someone your age.” Dean explained softly, untangling a white undershirt from the clothes and  
putting it over Cas’s head. It hung down past the boxers, all the way to his cute, little, knobby knees.

 

“I don’t like this. Let’s go home.” Cas grumbled.

 

“Alright,” Dean chuckled, lifting Cas up and cradling him in his arms, “Let’s get out of here.”

 

Dean rose and started to walk out off the room, but Cas mumbled something into his shoulder unintelligibly.

 

“What?” he prompted tenderly.

 

“My trench coat. Don’t leave it, please.” Cas murmured into his ear.

 

Dean sighed fondly, went back, and picked up the coat. He carried Cas back into the other room and then placed him lightly on the table which was now totally cleared of papers, then draped the coat over Cas’s tiny shoulders.

 

He took a picture with his phone of the layout on the corkboard to analyze later and grabbed the full duffle from under the table. Luckily, Metatron hadn’t thought to take anything other than the tablets.

 

When Dean turned back to pick up Cas again, he found him wriggling his torso and swinging his legs, trying to reach the floor and get down off the table without jumping. Dean almost laughed at the look of utter frustration on the little boy’s face.

 

“Whatcha doin’ little buddy?” Dean teased. He switched the duffle bag over to his left hand and wrapped his right arm around Cas’s tiny form, lifting him effortlessly and walking out of the warehouse.

 

“I might be small, but I can walk, Dean.” Cas objected, moving away from him slightly and sticking his lip out adorably.

 

“Yeah, well, you aren’t wearing shoes. I don’t want you getting hurt.” Dean reasoned, his protectiveness coming through, “Besides, you said you were cold.”

 

Cas was about to protest when a crisp wind made him freeze, reconsider, and then wrap his tiny arms tightly around Dean’s neck, pressing their cheeks together once again. Dean’s chest rumbled beneath him as a content laugh bubbled out of his lips.

 

Upon reaching the Impala, Dean sat Cas in the passenger's seat and stuffed the duffle in the trunk. Coming back around to the driver’s side and sliding in, he started her and began to move down the road to the highway.

 

A few minutes into the drive, he turned to check on Cas beside him and saw his head lolling forward, then coming up quickly, eyes wide. Then his eyes would slowly fall closed and his head would lean forward, only to snap back up fast. He shook his head a bit.

 

“Tired?” Dean wondered out loud.

 

“This ~yawn~ younger body ~yawn~ seems to ~yawn~ require more sleep ~yawn~ than my usual ~yawn~ adult body.” Cas admitted, shyly looking up at Dean with cloudy eyes. His hands gripped the trench coat that was still wrapped around him like a security blanket.

 

“It’s okay. You can go to sleep.” Dean offered, shutting off the lowered music so that the only noise was that of the purr of the Impala’s engine.

 

“Here,” he patted his right leg and motioned for Cas to move toward him. “Lay down. I’ll take care of you.”

 

Cas scooted closer and cautiously put his head down on Dean’s thigh, pulling at the trench coat. Dean grabbed it and helped Cas pull it up under his chin so that it covered his entire body.

 

“Promise?” Cas whispered, eyes growing a little larger as he gazed up into Dean’s jade orbs.

 

“I promise.” He confirmed, smoothing down Cas’s messy black hair reassuringly.

 

With that Cas snuggled into him and shut his eyes. It only took minutes for him  to be lulled to sleep. He relished the feeling of Dean’s warm, soothing hand in his hair and hearing Dean's low baritone humming  
the song “Hey Jude” which Mary Winchester had sung to him as a lullaby.

  
Dean drove as quickly as he could while trying to maintain a smooth ride so that he wouldn’t wake Cas. Darkness fell and the fluorescent street lights gave the figure curled up in his lap an ethereal glow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second one :)
> 
> You might hate me a little for the beginning, but the end is nice. We need a little fluff after the end of Tuesday's episode.


	3. Angels and Demons Like Burgers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long guys. I got really sick, like, out of commission for a week sick.  
> Anyway the semester has started once again and I have a huge workload, but I will try to update once a week.  
> I wouldn't hold me to it though.

Dean pulled the Impala into the garage and parked her in her spot. During the drive, Cas had crawled further and further into his lap in his sleep. His head was resting on top of his thin, folded arms which were leaning on Dean’s left leg. The remainder of his torso was on Dean’s right leg and his legs were curled right up against his side. The trench coat had migrated with him and was draped over most of Dean’s lower half. He really didn’t want to wake the poor kid up, but he had to stand up so that he could take him inside.

 

“Cas.” Dean whispered lightly in his ear, gently removing the trench coat from the boy’s upper body. “You got let me stand so I can bring you in.”

 

“Mmmmmmm, Dean” Cas moaned sleepily, lifting his head off of his arms and pushing up off of Dean’s lap.

 

“There you go, let’s get inside.” Dean cooed. He stood and picked Cas up off the bench seat and placed Cas’s little head on his shoulder, brushing his left hand in those dark locks and putting his right arm under Cas’s body, easily carrying the barely conscious boy into the bunker.

 

When they got inside, Dean went to the living room to put Cas on the couch but found Sam there taking up the entire thing while dozing and watching some random documentary. Dean tapped his head from behind with the hand that wasn’t supporting Cas and Sam shot up immediately.

 

“You’re back.” he exclaimed, mood turning wary when noticing a small body in Dean’s arms. “Who’s the kid? Where is Cas?”

 

“Shhhh. He’s just waking up. The poor kid fell asleep in the car. Actually, this is Cas. Metatron jumped us and did some kind of bizarre angelic spell. At least, I’m pretty sure it was angelic. He was speaking Enochian.” Dean summarized hastily before putting Cas down in the space Sam left on the couch.

 

“What?” Sam looked back and forth between Dean and Cas incredulously. “What are we going to do? We can’t just let him be this age forever.”

 

“I know. He seems okay for now. Looks like we’ve got a lot of research to do.” Dean nudged his brother.

 

“You think?” Sam asked sarcastically.

 

“Dean? Sam?” came Cas’s small voice from the couch. “I’m hungry. Can you make me a cheeseburger, Dean?”

 

Sam and Dean looked at each other than then back at Cas who was curled up in a ball on the couch, staring up at them with pleading eyes.

 

“Cheeseburgers are my favorite and you make the best cheeseburgers.” he added sincerely, nodding his head.

 

Sam looked at Dean once more, stunned by the sound of Cas’s voice.

 

“Please?” Cas squeaked out. He reached out with his tiny, porcelain hand and took Dean’s larger, calloused hand, tugging on his fingers weakly.

 

“Sure, Cas.” Dean conceded, picking him up once again and bringing him into the kitchen.

 

Sam followed his brother and sat across the table from Cas, still in a state of shock. His brother had left Cas in the same chair as he had that morning, but now he could barely reach the table.

 

“Are you okay?” Sam questioned him worriedly.

 

“In a manner of speaking, yes. I am in perfect health. However, I don’t just look like a child, I feel like one. ” Cas explained, squinting his eyes and tilting his head like a confused puppy as he tried to find the words to describe his condition.

 

“I smell cheeseburgers.” Crowley boomed, strutting into the kitchen, coat tails flapping behind him as he gestured animatedly to the grill Dean had set up on the stove top. He stopped short when he noticed the small boy sitting in Castiel’s usual chair.

 

“Hello, and who do we have here? What’s your name munchkin?” he inquired leering in Cas’s direction with an amused grin that came off quite sinister, but what can you do? He’s a demon and the King of Hell.

 

Cas shrieked and jumped off of the chair with amazing force for someone so small. He scurried as fast as his itty bitty legs could take him and hid behind Dean’s legs, hiding his face in the soft denim of the worn out jeans.

 

“My, my, my, I see we have a fledgling angel in our midst, boys.” Crowley quipped, trying to get a closer look at him. But Cas dodged all of the attempts and grasped at Dean’s jeans desperately, hopping then lifting his arms in an “up” motion.

 

Dean put the spatula down on a paper towel beside the grill and lifted the little angel swiftly. Cas immediately moved as far away from Crowley as he could without jumping out of Dean’s arms, putting his fragile hands on Dean’s shoulder and neck.

 

“I don’t like him, Dean.” Cas sniffled, tears falling from his wide, glassy eyes and running down his cheeks. Without hesitation, Dean used his free hand to wipe the tears away softly before placing Cas down on the counter beside him.

 

Keeping his body touching the counter, Dean spun back around to face Crowley, creating a barrier between the sensitive angel and the demon looking for some entertainment. In the meantime, Cas maintained his grip on Dean by holding onto his broad shoulders from behind.

 

“Let him be. He’s had a rough day.” Dean grunted.

 

“Touchy. I just wanted to say hello. Relax. I’m playing nice until we take care of Abaddon.” Crowley beamed. “What trouble did you get yourself into now, Cas?”

 

“Metatron cast a spell on him.” Sam piped up from the table.

 

“Sounds like a blast. When are those burgers going to be ready?” Crowley inquired jovially taking a seat at the table next to Sam.

 

“Soon.” Dean grumbled attempting to turn to the grill, but getting stopped by Cas’s Kung Fu grip on his shirt.

 

“Dean.” Cas whispered.

 

“Chill, Cas. He won’t do anything. Slimy bastard just wants one of my burgers.” he soothed the boy who released him slowly, refusing to take his eyes off of Crowley, who was reading a newspaper nonchalantly.

 

When Dean finished grilling the cheeseburgers, he pulled an assortment of condiments from the refrigerator. Then, he tried to put Cas in his usual chair, but since Crowley was seated next to it, the boy down right refused.

 

“Fine I guess you’re with me then.” Dean joked, sitting in the chair next to Sam, Cas nestling happily on his lap, and dragged two plates toward them.

 

The odd group chowed down on their meals enthusiastically until Cas pulled on Dean’s sleeve to get his attention.

 

“I’m thirsty. Do we have any chocolate milk?” he wondered good naturedly.

 

Sam and Dean froze. They weren’t used to having kids around, even if they were millennia old angels in a five year old body. Because Dean had used the remainder of the milk in the waffles that morning, the only non-alcoholic drinks they had were coffee, water, and a few energy drinks.

 

“I can whip some up, darling.” Crowley offered, and with a flick of his wrist, a sippy cup full of ice cold chocolate milk appeared upon the table directly in front of Cas, who took it and began to drink it eagerly. The Winchesters stared between the suckling angel and Crowley utterly bewildered at what he had just done.

 

“What? I don’t need the headache of having the tyke tremble in fear whenever I’m in the room. Sating a child is simple. Besides, I have to admit that he’s pretty cute like this.” He retorted offhandedly. “As amusing as this has been, I really must retire for the evening.”

 

With that, Crowley vanished and his plate magically appearing in the sink.

 

The boys finished their food and Cas’s head started to bob just like it had earlier in the Impala. Sam rose from his chair and started clearing the table. Dean got up, throwing Cas on to his shoulder and moved to help his little brother, but Sam stopped him short.

 

“Put him to bed, Dean. I’ll clean up the kitchen. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” Sam commanded.

 

Dean shot him a grateful look and carried a very nearly asleep Cas to his room. However, when he put him down on the plush mattress and covered him with the comforter, Cas became alert.

 

“Sh, go to sleep.” Dean hummed lowly, trying to get Cas to relinquish his hold on his shirt.

 

“Dean, I’m scared. Stay with me?” he pleaded, eyes growing wider and glossier by the second.

 

“Alright, scooch over.” Dean gave in quickly, lifting the covers and sliding into bed next to Cas’s small frame.

 

Dean was tense at first, but relaxed when Cas snuggled closer and rested his head on Dean’s chest.  Cas listened to his heartbeat and his slow, calming breaths and surrendered to sleep almost instantly. Dean watched Cas’s youthful face resting at peace. He had been beside himself with worry and fear when Metatron had attacked Cas. He couldn’t bear to lose him after only just bringing him home. Thankful to have his angel a safe and sleeping in his arms, Dean drifted off into dreamland not long after. The pair slept soundly, and for the first time in a long time, Dean didn’t have any nightmares.  

  
  


\-----

  
  


The next morning, Cas woke up Dean by jumping on the bed next to him and then throwing himself on to Dean’s chest. Dean let out a heavy gust of breath when the pint sized angel landed directly on his diaphragm, forcing the air from his lungs.

 

“Wake up, Dean.” Cas laughed, putting his hands on Dean’s cheeks and patting them lightly.

 

Dean groaned rubbing his eyelids with the tips of his fingers and slowly opened his weary green eyes to the bright room where he was immediately met with Cas’s lively blue ones.

 

“Mornin’ Cas.” Dean moaned, putting his hands under Cas’s arms to lift him off of him, but Cas jumped back with a surprised giggle, astounded by the strange sensation that the light touch had given him.

 

“Ohhh,” Dean breathed, now more awake with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re ticklish.”

 

Cas’s eyes got wide and he crawled back as quickly as he could, but he wasn’t nearly fast enough. Dean caught him easily and flung him back on to the bed where he had been sleeping not a minute earlier. He proceeded to tickle the little angel vigorously, Cas’s laughter like a clear ringing bell filled the room. It was contagious and soon Dean was laughing, too, with a mirth that he hadn’t felt in months.

 

“Stop, Dean! It’s too much! Too much! I can’t - hahahaha- breathe!” Cas squealed as he rolled around, pushing at Dean’s hands with his own.

 

“Surrender?” Dean lifted the loose t-shirt Cas had slept in and blew a raspberry on the hypersensitive skin of his tummy.

 

“Yes! hahahaha Yes!” Cas gasped, tears streaming down his rosy cheeks.

 

Dean ceased his assault and laid down on his back next to him. Cas’s breathless laughter eventually slowed to sporadic giggles. Still chuckling, Dean his head to the side to see the beaming face beside him.

 

“That was a very strange feeling. I enjoyed that very much, Dean.” Cas smiled earnestly before reaching over and wrapping his arms around as much of Dean’s body as he could, squeezing him in a tight hug. Still unused to Cas’s forward displays of affection, it took Dean a moment before he wrapped his arms around the little guy in return.

 

“Alright, kiddo, let’s go get Sam so that we can get some breakfast.” Dean suggested into the top of the raven hair that was tickling his neck.

 

“Okay!” Cas agreed cheerfully before sliding off of Dean, bouncing off the bed and right out of Cas’s room. He scrambled through the hallway, into Sam’s room and up on to Sam’s bed.

 

“Sam, breakfast time! Get up! Get up!” Cas shouted hyperactively. Dean had followed him and now stood in Sam’s doorway trying to stifle his laughter unsuccessfully.

 

“Urgggghhhh, Dean, take him to the kitchen. I’ll be there in like ten minutes.” Sam hissed, shoving his head into a pillow.

 

“C’mon short stuff. Sam will be less grumpy once he’s had coffee and some food.” Dean gibed, waving Cas over.

 

“I’m not that short.” Cas insisted, sticking his tongue out at Dean, who in turn stuck his tongue right back at the child.

 

The two made their way happily into the kitchen where Dean brewed coffee for the adults and then dug around in the refrigerator for a few minutes. Cas waited patiently in a chair at the table observing. When Dean found what he was looking for he held a fist out to Cas expectantly. The angel stared at it, squinted, and then looked up at Dean with a confused tilt of his head.

 

“Fist bump, Cas. I can’t believe you haven’t gotten one yet!” Dean complained.

 

“Is this similar to the practice of the high five?” Cas theorized very solemnly for someone in such a small body, but eyes lighting up with recognition.

 

“Yeah! You just make a fist and bump it into the other persons.” Dean affirmed, grinning at the understanding on Cas’s face.

 

Then, Cas molded his hand into a fist and extended it slowly in Dean’s direction and carefully tapped his tiny knuckles into Dean’s much larger ones.

 

“There you go!” Dean cheered and showed Cas what he had gotten out of the fridge. “Cinnamon buns! You’ll love these, Cas. Even Sam, the health nut, can’t resist them.”

 

Dean preheat the oven, and together they opened the package and lined a pan with the cinnamon buns. Once in the pan was in the oven, Cas helped Dean mix the glaze in a bowl. By the time the timer went off signaling that the cinnamon buns were ready, Sam and Crowley had both followed their noses and found their way to the delicious cinnamon glazed goodness.

 

Dean poured the glaze over them and cut out one for Cas and one for himself, leaving the Sam and Crowley to fight over the rest.

 

“We need to go grocery shopping and Cas needs some clothes that actually fit.” Sam announced between bites of a fairly large cinnamon bun and gulps of coffee.

 

“Sure.” Dean nodded and took one last gulp of his coffee before rising to put his and Cas’s dishes in the sink. He brought back a wet paper towel to clean Cas off. Somehow, the little angel had managed to cover his entire face in glaze and crumbs. There were even a few in his hair.

 

“Maybe we should get this rascal some baby soaps, too. He made a hell of a mess.” Dean chuckled as he wiped the boy’s cheeks.

 

“Thank you, Dean. These are wonderful.” Cas’s voice muffled by a final mouthful of cinnamon bun.

  
Dean washed the dishes while Sam cleaned the table and counters. Cas sat in his chair trying not to get himself into any trouble. When they finished, the boys changed out of their pajamas, Dean through an old hoodie on Cas to keep him warm, and they headed out to the Impala for a shopping trip that was without a doubt going to be an interesting experience.


	4. Shopping Trips and Guinea Pigs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long. I feel terrible form making you guys wait. I've had a crazy semester and I think my professors are plotting against me. Hopefully the next one will be out much sooner.

Driving to the closest town took about a half hour. Cas was seated comfortably between Sam and Dean on the bench seat in the front of the Impala.

 

“Pick up a booster seat for Cas. The last thing we need is to get pulled over for having a little kid riding around without any special seats.”  Sam suggested, holding Cas down as they went over a particularly large pothole.

 

“Aw, but Sammy!” Dean whined. Sam shut him up with a bitchface that could stop Lucifer himself in his tracks.

 

Taking a lap of the town’s main road, Dean found a strip mall that had both a thrift shop and  a supermarket, and drove the Impala into its parking lot.

 

“Alright. I don’t trust you to buy anything that is actually healthy, so I’m buying the food. You take care of Cas’s clothes and stuff.” Sam ordered, opening up the passenger’s side door and sliding out.

 

“Don’t forget the pie.” Dean hollered after him. Cas giggled at that.

 

Sam waved his hand in response shouting back, “Have fun!”

 

Dean looked down at Cas beside him, who was smiling excitedly.

 

“Alright, let’s go.” Dean chuckled, taking the boy out of the car with him.

 

Dean carried Cas into the thrift store. The little guy stood out like a sore thumb, shoeless and clad in too big clothes. They were almost immediately approached by an older woman woman who had a grandma like quality to her.

 

"How can I help you? What happened to this cutie? Is he yours?" She asked Dean in a heavy southern drawl while sweetly patting a wrinkled hand on Cas's back.

 

Cas curled into Dean's chest, shyly hiding his blushing face under Dean's chin. Dean cleared his throat.

 

"No, he's my cousin's. Their house burned down and all of his stuff was destroyed. He needs some new clothes, shoes, and a booster seat for the car, if you've got one. I'm sorry I don't know any sizes." He fabricated the story on the fly. The lady bought it with a smile dripping absolutely with pity.

 

"Come along then, dears. You look about a 5T. What's your name, sugar?" She inquired softly in Cas's direction.

 

"Castiel." He murmured, slowly coming away from Dean slightly and gifting the woman with a small smile.

 

“Well, Castiel,  my name is Delilah, but you can call me Auntie Dee.” she offered a grin in return.

 

“Please call me Cas.” he spoke a little louder this time, finding the woman was trustworthy enough to aid him in his endeavor.

 

"Well aren't you sweet! I'll take care of you honey. Come on over here, and we'll find you some shoes." She chattered and lead Dean and Cas through the store.

 

She was incredible. She tore through the store grabbing a teensy pair of battered, but still sturdy, black converse and a pair of the smallest white socks Dean has seen in a while. Dean sat Cas on a stool and the woman helped Cas put the shoes on his feet so that he could walk on his own.

 

From there, Dean could barely keep up. The woman took Cas’s hand and the angel skipped through the store in search of clothes. In the end, Dean managed to find the booster seat thing that Sam wanted for Cas and he was sure that the one he chose wouldn't ruin the Impala’s upholstery.

 

Delilah and Cas had amassed a modest stack of clothes on the counter by the register which consisted of a few pairs of jeans, a couple of t-shirts, a soft blue sweater, a more substantial jacket for when it got cold, and the necessary undergarments.

 

As Dean paid for the clothes, Cas babbled on about his love for his new sweater, “It’s so soft, Dean! It is my favorite article of clothing I have owned in a millenia!”

 

Delilah laughed at Cas’s imagination. Dean laughed because he knew that Cas was serious.

 

“Thank you so much for the help. You are a lifesaver.” Dean shook the her hand earnestly as they walked out of the store. In one hand he held the bag of clothes and booster seat, in the other, he held Cas’s hand.

 

As they walked across the parking lot, every few steps Dean would lift Cas of the ground and the little angel would kicking his feet in the air as we was swung forward. Sam was already leaning on the hood of the Impala waiting for them, raising an eyebrow at Dean.

 

“Shut up. You used to love that, too.” Dean defended, pulling Cas around to the back seat. He put the booster seat down behind the passenger's side and the bag of clothes next to it.

 

Cas hopped up onto the seat and raised his arms so that Dean could buckle him in. Dean brushed his fingers lightly across Cas’s clothed stomach, tickling him lightly before closing the door. He could hear Cas’s shriek of delight even outside the car. He motioned for Sam, who rolled his eyes at his older brother, to get in and walked around to the drivers side. They started the drive back to the bunker.

 

About 5 minutes in there was a groan from the back seat.

 

“You okay back there?” Dean questioned, looking into the rear-view mirror after hearing a thump that sounded suspiciously like a head banging itself on the glass of the window.

 

“I don't like sitting in the back. It's boring. I’m bored.” Cas sighed, facing forward again.

 

“Well, let’s play a game then.” Dean supplied, knocking his elbow into Sam’s to encourage his agreement.

 

“Having Cas around as a kid is making you go soft, Dean.” He muttered low enough under his breath so that only Dean could hear him.

 

“Yeah, right.” Dean brushed him off. “What was that game that you liked to play? The camping one?”

 

“The alphabet camping game? I can’t believe you remember that!” Sam grinned at his brother.

 

“How could I not? You only begged to play it with me on every car ride that lasted over an hour.” Dean reminisced with a  roll of  his eyes.

 

“What is the purpose of this game?” Cas interrupted from behind them.

 

“You list things in alphabetical order. When it’s your turn you say ‘I’m going on a camping trip and I'm bringing apples’ for the letter a.” Sam explained.

 

“Then I would say ‘I’m going on a camping trip and I'm bringing bullets’ for the letter b.” Dean continued. Cue a bitchface from Sam.

 

“Fine. I’m going on a camping trip and I'm bringing bananas.” Dean corrected himself, rolling his eyes at his brother.

 

“So then I would say ‘I’m going on a camping trip and I'm bringing a camera’ for the letter c.” Sam broke in.

 

“I believe I understand the concept. May we begin?” Cas addressed the brothers solemnly.

 

"Yeah sure, Cas. Give it a shot." Dean urged with a nod towards the back seat.

 

“I’m going on a camping trip and I'm bringing…” Cas thought for a moment before exclaiming, “donuts!”

 

“Nice one. I’m going on a camping trip and I'm bringing eggs.” Dean added contently.

 

“Really, Dean? Is that the best you got? I’m going on a camping trip and I'm bringing flannel.” Sam fired back in a laughing tone.

 

“My turn!” Cas squeaked. “I’m going on a camping trip and I'm bringing guinea pigs.”

 

Sam turned around in his seat to look at the angel with a raised brow.

 

“Guinea pigs?” he echoed back disbelievingly.

 

“They are quite wonderful creatures. Though they are called guinea pigs, they are neither pigs nor from Guinea. They are actually from South America. Their fur is very fluffy and their overall demeanor is quite pleasant. I would quite like to acquire one in the near future.” Cas remarked with a small smile and a tilt of his head.

 

“You hear that Dean? Cas wants a guinea pig.” Sam swung his head to look at his brother a smirk obvious on his face.

 

Dean pondered silently for a moment. Cas held his breath. Sam’s smirk grew into a full on smile.

 

“Well, I don’t see why not. We aren't living out of the Impala anymore and if he’s willing to take on such a big responsibility, I’ll see what I can do.” Dean spoke coolly in Sam’s direction, watching the shit eating grin fall from his face, and then turned to Cas with a hesitant smile.

 

Cas whooped, throwing his hands in the air and waving them around ecstatically.  

 

“Hold on a second. I have been asking for years now- YEARS- for a dog, and every time I do, you shoot it down. This is nothing against Cas, but he asks only once for a guinea pig and you’re all gung-ho? Dean! What the hell man?”  Sam ranted looking unhinged.

 

“What can I say? Guinea pigs are quiet, they don’t take up a lot of space, they don’t need to be walked, and most importantly, they live in a cage which means they won't be riding around, stinking up, my baby.” Dean defended himself with a pointed look at Sam.

 

Sam turned in his seat to watch the drive through the window. He was pouting and they all knew it.

 

Dean snuck a peak in the rear-view mirror at Cas who was wearing a smile that stretched from ear to ear. He made eye contact and winked at the little angel before turning back to the road.

 

Cas stifled his giggles with both hands and observed Dean push a different cassette tape into the player in the Impala’s dashboard the begin to lip sync the words as he drummed on the steering wheel.

 

By the end of the second song, Dean was pulling into the garage at the Men of Letters bunker.

 

“Home sweet home.” Dean announced, cutting the engine.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam complained. “I still can’t believe you are going to let Cas get a guinea pig.”

 

Dean shrugged as he slid out of the car.

  
As they lugged the spoils of their shopping trip inside, Sam added “At least Crowley hasn't done any obvious damage.” 


End file.
